Keep Him Close
by Emmithar
Summary: Halloween Fic: Sometimes you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Character death, GregSara
1. Chapter 1

**Keep Him Close**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Last time I checked I still didn't own them. So sorry.

**Summary: **Halloween Fic: Sometimes you don't know what you have until it's gone. Character death, Greg/Sara

**A/N: **I know, I know. Yet another one. But I was in the mood, and hey, it's Halloween, or close enough to say that it still is. It's only a two parter, last piece will be up within the next week.

* * *

**Chapter One: **Missing

He had been peppy; or at least that was what she drew from it. His black velvet hat had been drawn down over his eyes as he shifted the collar of his coat to wrap around his neck to just under his chin as he came into the room. With a nod he grinned at her, earning a similar expression back as he spoke for the first time.

"Hello my lady," he purred softly, extending a gloved hand. "What is something as classy as you doing all the way back here?"

Sara rolled her eyes only slightly, but couldn't help but laugh as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He looked stunning in his costume, more than she would ever admit; there were quite a few things that surprised her about him. One being his love for Halloween. She could honestly swear that was an overgrown child, but she supposed that was all in a good way.

Halloween had never been one of her things. When she was younger, living with her parents it wasn't something you even mentioned. It didn't exist in her life, and in fact she hadn't known what Halloween even was about until she started school. This tradition carried on through her foster years, and soon it became a distaste. As the other children went door to door acquiring copious amounts of candy she would remain locked in her room, studying for the next upcoming test, or divulging in a forensics book. Knowledge, not fantasy, had been her escape from reality.

The first time she had ever dressed up was a few years prior, when Greg, once again, had convinced her to come to the annual costume party held by the LVPD. It was a charity function, something the city always liked to see, but with a bit of added fun. For years she had avoided it, until one man convinced her to come.

The first year she hadn't even dressed up, simply coming as herself. It had been a long day at the lab and the last thing she wanted to do was hang around at her apartment. In the end Greg had been right, it was fun. Fun enough to make her brave the embarrassment and dress up for the next year.

"What are you supposed to be?" she raised an eyebrow as he spun around, his black cape following after. Almost completely decked out in black save for his silver belt and dainty feathers atop his hat it made him seem incredibly sexy, the clothes skimming along his skin nicely. Greg had grown in more than one way over the years, maturing into a fine young man. He had seemed so young and naïve when she first had met him, but now that all that had washed away into a more confident investigator.

"I," he took a moment to drawn in a breath, flashing a grin, "am a Shadow Bandit. And you would be?"

Sara flashed him a grin, the cheap plastic fangs showing for but a moment. Greg had obviously spent more on his attire, but she was unwilling to dish out big bucks for something she was going to wear for a span of several hours. It just didn't seem worth it. "Like you couldn't tell."

"A Countess," Greg grinned from ear to ear, holding his arm up to his side. "A creature of the night, would you care to escort such a fine specimen to the party?"

"Surely you don't mean yourself," she challenged, smiling as he blushed. Even though his face was concealed mostly by the hat, and the mask he had donned, it was still easy to see that he was shy. It was a quality she had always liked about him. Always so outgoing, yet timid on the inside. It was sweet, and a bit intoxicating.

"I was hoping you'd be my girl for the night," Greg stated, shrugging off her earlier comment. His true voice rung through, his forced accent dropping for the time being. She gave him a weak smile, wishing that she could accept.

"I've already promised Nicky."

"Stung by Holmes himself?" Greg questioned, arms folded as he shifted his weight. He was surprised to see Sara laughing…once again. "What?"

"He's Dr. Watson," she corrected, reaching out to take one of his arms. "And besides, I've been your partner for the last three years now. And he asked before you did. What was I supposed to say?"

"That you're already occupied," Greg inserted quickly, locking arms with her as they exited the back room, heading out back to the party floor. "This is like our tradition, how could you just change things around?"

"It's not like that Greg…" she said with a soft sigh. Coming to a stop she glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "How about we have our own little party afterwards? Just you and me. A couple of movies, a few forensic files. What do you say?"

She could see him consider it for a moment, before grinning with a nod. As much as she enjoyed Nick's company, she would rather spend a quiet night with Greg, who was good humored and easy going, willing almost, to try anything. They had been friends for many years, but somehow she found that with passing time their friendship became a little deeper. With a last smile she released his arm, heading off to find the disguised Texan, images of the forthcoming night playing out in her mind.

* * *

She could remember the first time she had met him. Greg was…different. She wasn't exactly shy, but she wasn't exactly social. Given her past it wasn't a question as to why. She was sheltered, and yet exposed to the cruelties of the world at a very young age. She knew and understood that trust wasn't something that came along easy. Yet that was one thing she was always able to do, was trust him.

But she never trusted him enough. It wasn't always that. Greg was too sweet of a person to burden him with complications of the past; it was too hard to ask someone to close her past for her. For now Greg was simply a friend. She wasn't ready to move on to any other stage…until now.

Her heart skipped a beat as pulled off her cape, slipping out of her pants. The plastic fangs were digging into her gums now and she winced as she pulled them free. Sara hardly believed the price she was paying for a few simple hours of fun. Her jaw ached from the accessories, the cloth of her costume was tight, finding the material at a thrift store at the last moment, and having it be a size too small. The heels, which she had only worn once or twice before in her life, were pinching her feet. Next year she would make it simple and go as a CSI. Heck, that way she wouldn't even have to put on a fake accent.

Wetting her lips she brushed out her hair, glancing in the mirror one last time before pulling on a change of more comfortable clothing. Greg would be on his way not too much longer. He had, obviously, wanted to change before joining her, and their plans had been put on hold for yet another hour at the very least.

She had missed him, even for the short time. Greg made sure to drop in often, but a few moments within a handful of hours wasn't long enough. It had been a while since they had talked…actually talked, that was. Sara often looked forward to their more serious conversations, the ones that they had when it was only the two of them. A majority of the things she discussed with him were things she wouldn't dare breathe about while someone else was in the room.

Slipping on a pair of pajama bottoms Sara wandered out to the living room. Though small in size it was plenty big enough to house her and Greg, as well as all the food he could consume. Even though he had been nibbling on candy and other sugary sweets the entire night, Sara knew that he would still have room. It was the only reason she had stopped on the way home, forgetting for a moment the humiliation she had to endure teetering into the restaurant on wobbly heels, decked out in clothes that weren't even close to formal wear. It was well worth the Thai Take-out, plus the fact she had picked up a little extra for herself.

She had originally planned on waiting until Greg showed up, but once looking at the clock she realized how much time had actually gone by. It wouldn't be too much longer before he arrived, and she was hungry, having skipped all tasty temptations earlier. With a smile she grabbed her own carton, stretching out on the couch to watch a bit of Cold Case as she began eating, her eyes constantly going to the door at every outside sound.

Ten minutes passed by, and before she knew it another fifteen. Long ago finishing her meal she moved to her feet, discarding the empty container and grabbing a beer from the fridge. After all there wasn't an exact planned time that they were to meet. There could have been a number of things that could have come up. Greg knew far more people than she did, and amazingly enough was able to get along with them all. She knew that he would have called if he was going to be much later.

At least this is what she convinced herself. One hour turned into two, and one beer turned into several. It was somewhere near three in the morning by the time she passed out, thankful for the only fact she wasn't expected in at work until the next night.

* * *

It was the shrill ring of her cell that woke her up to a pounding headache, and she groaned, rubbing her temples. Confusion had set in mostly, and it took her a few minutes to relive the night before.

Seeing the empty beer bottles, the still full cartons of food that were now cold, and her cell sitting on the table confirmed her suspicions. Greg had stood her up. She couldn't help but feel the bitter disappointment. It wasn't too much longer however, before her bitterness wore off and was replaced by anger. If Greg hadn't been so persistent she wouldn't have invited him over in the first place. Who was he then, to choose whether or not he wanted to come? And to think all she had done to make the night special.

She let out an irate groan as her phone went off again, moving to her feet despite the sudden surge of pain and stumbled over to the counter. Angrily she snapped it off, shoving in her pocket. More in likely it was Greg, calling to apologize. She didn't even want to hear it, and this way she would be saving his precious breath. After all the years of waiting for Grissom and being turned down she wasn't willing to start the process over once again with yet another male.

She took a few calm breaths, her body shaking with slight rage as well as depression as she struggled with this hangover. She was by no means an alcoholic, at least not anymore. It was the first time in nearly a month she had indulged herself like this, and even longer since she had actually passed out. And this last time it wasn't even intentional, just the mere fact she had lost track of how many she had actually had.

Somehow she managed to make it through the rest of the day. By the time work rolled around she was feeling more like herself, but still a bit tipsy. She figured if she stayed in the lab, and worked on some of the older cases she would be fine. Then again she wondered if that was even possible, considering that it was the night after Halloween. There was always someone who managed to get themselves into trouble.

And by the looks of it, she had been right. The lab was more than busy, it was chaotic. Wall to wall people made it nearly impossible for her to squeeze through, Sara barely hearing the questions of the many reporters that pressed in around reception. Ecklie was doing his best to hold down the fort, the Sheriff yet having to arrive. With a slight roll of her eyes she wondered briefly what was going on that caused this much hype. This was Las Vegas after all, Sin City as they called it. It wasn't like no one had ever died in their town before.

She saw Catherine's face flash with relief when the two crossed paths. The blonde woman had already started talking, leaving Sara with half a hanging sentence as she continued on, pressing a file folder into her open hand. Sara's mouth hung open as she watched her walk away, still holding the folder in her hand as Catherine continued to shout down the hallway.

"Get the processed, page me ASAP with any findings."

"Get what processed?" Sara grumbled, thankful for only the fact that Catherine hadn't noticed she was nearly stark drunk. She flipped through a few of the files as she moved down the hall, briefly reading reports about findings, empty containers, and possible drugs in liquid form. Somehow she had to laugh bitterly. "Welcome to Hell, how long will you be staying?"

"You've heard then?"

Sara glanced up as Warrick moved by, the man stopping only long enough to fill her in. "We've already checked his place, he never made it home, we have the car in the garage, it was found miles away from town. We're thinking car jacking gone bad. We still need to find out if he was drugged or not, make sure you check the syringe for possible transfer, that's important."

Sara smiled briefly before turning away, her head pounding once more. It would be nice if someone actually told her who their victim was. A name and a face would be nice after all. She mused lightly that it had to be someone important…famous more in likely. A singer, perhaps? Sara knew that this weekend was big for the rock stars. There was several scheduled events planned out, it could have been one of them. A kidnapping on Halloween night…the night of the living dead…how ironic.

She passed by the garage door, coming to a stop as glanced at the car. It was a fairly cheap car, especially one for some famous rich person to own. True it more in likely was a rental, but they wouldn't got in such a shabby style. There was something about it, something she couldn't place and it made her take a longer look. Something about a small silver run-down car that was too familiar for comfort. It wasn't until then that she realized why.

It was Greg's car.

Blinking she shook her head; why did Greg have his car in the garage? Come to think of it, where was Greg at all? Sara bit her lip, squashing down the rising fear. It couldn't be, someone would have told her. It was just a big case, it was some rock star, some movie person…not Greg. The car only looked like Greg's; there were a lot of small silver cars out there that were on the dying end. There were a lot of 'he's' in Vegas, a lot of people to worry over, to hype about, it didn't have to be Greg, it couldn't have been Greg…

Tears threatened to over flow and she bit her lip to keep them at bay. It couldn't be Greg…but it was.

Greg, had disappeared.

**TBC**


	2. Bring Him Home

**Chapter Two: Bring Him Home**

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Last night, at the party," Sara responded quietly, hands clasped in front of her. It was the only tactic she could use to keep her hands from shaking, but even still a slight tremor raced through.

Sara could hardly remember what transpired after she learned of Greg's fate. Supposedly she blacked out, waking up to the entire night shift circling around her. It hadn't taken her long to switch back to her old methods, shutting everyone out, putting on a false expression. She was fine, she didn't need to be babied, didn't need to be watched.

Things had changed yet again however once they learned that she and Greg were supposed to meet up. Now it was a serious of questions. Strangely enough they had been nice enough to use just a simple office, and not haul her down to interrogation. Even so, it didn't changes things for the better.

"And you talked to him last?"

"That same night as well," she breathed.

"Before or after you left?" Catherine wanted to know, raising an eyebrow.

"At the party," Sara snapped, avoiding the other woman's gaze. Ever since becoming Grissom's right hand she had gotten bossier. Sure, there had never really been a time when they were friends, but at least before they could tolerate one another. Now it was all Sara could to do to keep from tearing her head off. After all, it had been Catherine's idea to question her as a suspect. Or as she like to put it, 'a person of interest'.

"When were you expecting him to show up at your place?" she asked next, arms folded as she leaned against the desk.

"Whenever he showed up," Sara told her quietly, growing tired of the endless ring of questions. "It wasn't anything specific; I asked if he wanted to come over, he said he was going home to change first. I thought it would take about an hour."

"After an hour passed and he didn't show up, what did you do?"

"I just waited…"

"You didn't call?" Catherine raised an eyebrow, frowning. "If someone just didn't show up, I certainly would."

"I figured he was running behind," Sara whispered, "If I thought anything was out of the ordinary, I would have, believe me."

"So Greg disappears without word and that doesn't worry you?"

She frowned, muttering under her breath. "I didn't know that he was missing until today. I figured he went home, and fell asleep. We were tired, the both of us."

"Are you and Greg dating?"

The question caught her off guard. Not so much as the question itself, but the person asking it. Grissom was watching her from over his glasses, head resting in one hand as he leaned back in his chair. He seemed relax, oddly enough, hiding behind a mask.

"No…we're just…we're not." Sara shook her head, unable to find the words to fill in the gaps. A few nights out here and there didn't count as dating, did it? She laughed bitterly at that idea; of course it didn't. She and Greg were just friends…sure they flirted constantly, and there wasn't a moment that Greg didn't hit on her…and it was true that he was on her mind a lot. But all of that was because they spent a lot of time with one another, not just at work, but while they were away from the lab as well.

"Besides…what does that have to do with anything?"

"If you and Greg are dating, it changes things around completely," the man responded dryly.

"Greg and I," Sara let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "Greg and I are just friends, and even if we were dating, it wouldn't make any difference. You're not honestly thinking I could have something to do with this?"

There was silence in the room, stretched thinly over several long minutes. Sara sat still in her chair, breathing deeply to keep herself from panicking. She hadn't had time to reflect on the situation yet. She just knew the basics…Greg's disappearance. It could mean nothing…and yet everything entirely.

"No known threats, or people of interest," Nick stated, coming into the room. He stopped once seeing everyone there staring at him. "What is this?"

Grissom cleared his throat, pulling off his glasses. "We're interviewing a person of interest now."

Sara wanted to cry, probably would have if Nick didn't cut in, his voice tense, and rising a notch as he continue. "Are you freaking kidding me? Greg's out there somewhere, possibly dying or even dead, and you're interviewing Sara?"

"We find a lead, and we follow it," Grissom stated calmly, as if not even thrown off by the anger in the Texan's voice.

"What lead?" Nick exclaimed, shaking his head, "That Sara and Greg are friends? Hell, then you'd better investigate me. Greg and I are went out to a bar the night before, who knows, maybe I slipped something in his drink?"

"It's not the same," Grissom started, but Nick held up his hand, shaking his head.

"There is no difference. Instead of wasting your time in here, you could be searching for Greg."

"We follow the evidence," Catherine cut in, hoping to convince the Texan that what they were doing was indeed justified, but Nick was already turning to leave.

"Then follow real evidence."

Sara let out an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in the chair. "Can I go now?"

Grissom was silent as he nodded, Catherine moving to say something before being silenced by the older man. Sara didn't need a second invitation, and was out in the hallway, using long strides to catch up with Nick.

"What do you know?"

"Not a whole lot," he replied, seemingly unsurprised to see her there. "Archie's pulling Greg's phone records; I'm on my way to see what he has."

Sara nodded, disappointed in the simple fact they had no real evidence as of yet. Doing the math in her head she realized that as of now, Greg had been missing for thirteen hours. By normal standards it wouldn't have been enough to raise any alarms. But with the finding of his car, and the lack of his presence it was enough to get everyone into gear.

Archie was hard at work, bent over his computer, his gaze shifting from his own screen to the enlarged one up on the wall. He barely gazed at the new occupants, merely motioning to the wall as he pulled up the list.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, calls to and from the lab, Warrick, Nick, Grissom, Catherine…anyone in the lab is fair game. A few calls to his parents place, a number to and from Sara."

"We work nearly every case together," she replied grippingly, "Communication is a must."

"Not saying anything," Archie said with a simple shrug. "There's no numbers out of the ordinary, it's all generic."

"What was his last call?" Nick wondered, "And to whom?"

"Let me check," Archie scanned the list, moving to the bottom of the page. "Sara's cell, at seven this morning."

She blinked, biting her lip to keep herself at bay. "This morning?"

The phone had gone off this morning, and she had avoided it, had ignored it…purposely.

"You never picked up," Archie stated quietly, to which Sara nodded.

"I didn't…I thought it was Grissom trying to call me in early," she breathed, the lie coming out easily. "I didn't even check the ID."

"I'll check with Warrick," Nick stated after a moment of silence. "Maybe he's found out something with Greg's car…"

Sara nodded, taking in a breath. "I'll check the syringe, and other drugs…if they're pharmaceutical we can trace them maybe, find some connection…"

"Its better then sitting here doing nothing," Archie commented, putting his headphones back on.

It was something she could agree with.

* * *

Days passed and soon stretched into a week. The search for Greg Sanders was effectively called off. Sara had remained persistent that they needed to keep it up. They were no closer than they had been before…which is why they had to keep searching.

Sara knew, knew that if it had been anyone else, the search would have been called off near the end of the third day. It was now a body retrieval, something she did not like to think about. All her efforts had been in vain. The drugs were all off the streets, and with traces of them all in the syringe it was impossible to tell what, if anything, was injected into Greg, or anyone else.

There was no useable DNA, or any indication that someone had been with Greg. Her stomach turned at the thought. It couldn't be real…Greg just couldn't disappear without a trace. Sara closed her eyes as the tears threatened to fall, fingernails digging into her arms as she tried to breathe.

She wasn't ready for this…she wanted him…needed him. It had taken her some time to realize this, to realize that it had been Greg that had kept her sane for all these years. It was Greg she told her most in-depth secrets to, her greatest fears. It was Greg she had relied on when her depression had hit her the hardest, and Greg who had convinced her that she didn't need Grissom to fulfill her needs.

How could she have ever let something that good slip through her fingers? Her thoughts drifted back to what Grissom had asked, or at least, assumed. Had she and Greg really been that close to portray a sense of…companionship? Of belonging with one another? Something that was strong enough that her own boss, someone who was completely void of any and every human emotion, had been able to sense?

Clearing her throat she moved her feet, trying to forget everything that was going on. Greg was still out there somewhere, and until he was found she needed to keep it together. After all, people had been gone longer without word to only show up completely safe and sound. The lack of evidence was heartbreaking, but finding none either could be hopeful. Hopeful in the sense that Greg had indeed gone off under his own will for one reason or another.

But try as she might, Sara could not bring up any reason to as why he would. Greg had been, after all, in a wonderful mood the night of the party. A little stung that she had gone with Nick instead, but reasonable, and even afterwards when she talked with him, he had be bragging about all the 'pretty ladies' he had danced with in her absence.

It was Greg who suggested that she picked up some food for the evening, and he had been adamant about hurrying on over one changing. Sara had even teased him about it, stating that there was no need to do so. She shook her head once again. No…Greg wouldn't have just disappeared.

But that left her with the other problem on her mind. If he didn't just walk off…something had happened to him. That something wasn't the scenario she wanted to think about.

More than anything she wanted it to be a dream. She'd wake up on her sofa, stiff from sleeping on the lumpy material, head pounding from the intoxicating drinks with the smell of booze lingering in the air. Greg would be waiting for her on the other side of her door, ready to scold her as he cleaned up the mess. _I thought we talked about this,_ would be what he would say, and Sara would sit there and apologize, stating that she hadn't meant for it to happen.

They would talk quietly for a while, before Greg would apologize, pull her into a hug, and say with a sigh that he just wanted her to be happy. That all he wanted was to make sure that she would be okay.

Sara smiled timidly at the thought. Greg had always made sure she came first. He never really thought about his own needs, and the remorse she was feeling now that she could not return the favor was overwhelming.

Tears brimming at her eyes, she turned as her name was called, coming to a stop in front of Grissom's office. The scientist had pulled off his glasses, taking a sip of the steaming liquid as he made a face. "You should go home."

"And do what?" she wondered mildly. It wasn't like she had much of a choice. Sara had been home all of two hours since Greg's disappearance, sleeping mostly in the break room, and hardly remembering what, or even if, she had eaten.

"This isn't healthy. There's nothing more you can do. You need to let it go."

She sniffed, shifting to lean against his doorframe. "Let it go? Is that what you would say if it was me?"

She could see him shift uncomfortably, a frown covering his face. "I may not be able to do much…but I will tell you one thing. I'm going to find him….and I'm going to bring him home. That's where he belongs."

She could see Grissom frowning, moving to say something else but she didn't give him the time. She wasn't like Grissom; she couldn't shut her feelings, her emotions out. It just wasn't her. Greg was more than a friend, he was…he was a part of her. Part of her past, and for a while, even now, she had hoped he would be a part of her future.

But as the hours went by, Sara knew that would be even less of a chance.

* * *

She got the call later that night. It wasn't one she wanted, her heart seizing in fear as she drove out to the coordinates. Part of her as hoping it was a prank, but somewhere, somehow she knew it was him. There were no descriptions, just the fact that a body had been found. Sara knew that with as many people as there were in Vegas, it could be anywhere. After all, there were a number of body dumps along this stretch.

She was one of the first there. A lone police officer who had received the call, plus the driver who had spotted him filled the black night. As much as he wanted to barrel past the makeshift rope, Sara knew she had to cover all her points. Up ahead she could see Robbins on the ground alongside David, the two blocking her view from the body.

"Rick Morrison, you found the body?" Sara asked quietly, coming up to the nervous man. He was scrawny; pale almost, a possible drug junkie which would explain his odd location. The man nodded, clearing his throat.

"Was meeting my boys…had some good drug raids…awfully cold out here."

"Morrison is a repeat offender," the officer explained quietly. "We've picked him up numerous times."

Sara nodded, her eyes shifting back to where the body lay as David stood, moving to the other side. In the dim light she could see the legs, but that was about it. Her attention moved back to the man just then.

"Were you out here selling drugs?"

The man nodded, then shook his head. "Not selling…selling's illegal, I was…I was buying them…I have this habit, I've tried to stop, but it doesn't work…"

"You are confessing to illegal possession of drugs," Sara informed him, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Morrison nodded, "I didn't kill the guy, I just wanted everyone to know that. I have an alibi…might land me in jail but selling drugs is less than murder and I didn't hurt no one."

Sara nodded, slightly amused but excused herself then, seeing that backup was nearing, lights flashing in the darkness. She could hear the quiet muttering of the two men as she neared, David looking up at her as knelt on the ground.

"I don't think you should…"

He had stopped, more in likely silenced by Robbins as she looked on. Her breath was caught in her throat as she took in his pale complexion; arms crossed over his chest and folded neatly, eyes barely visible through the mask. Save for a few bruises, and a dry cut along his forehead, he was flawless.

Slowly she reached up, pulling off the hat, leaving only the bandanna in his hair. She knew about crime scenes, knew that if they wanted to catch his killer things needed to be intact, but she couldn't help herself. She needed to see him, needed to see him for himself.

Reaching under his head she untied the strands to his mask, pulling it free from his face, faint indentations of the ends left on his skin. He looked so peaceful, and at the same time so timid and young. He was more a kid than anything else, and Sara could not even begin to imagine the fear he faced starting that night.

"How?" she asked quietly, her fingers running along his forehead, grazing the cut that remained there.

"He has some common signs of toxic poisoning, but until we perform an autopsy we won't know for sure." Robbins explained. "Body's been moved, he wasn't killed here, but his core temperature suggest he's been kept somewhere cold. There's been no insect activity, so he hasn't been out here long. My suggestions are that he was killed the same night as the party."

"Wrong place, wrong time," Sara stated quietly, biting her lip as she drew her fingers through his hair, pulling the bandana free. "I'm so sorry."

She would find out all the details later, and even now, being here, seeing him now, she couldn't bring herself to face the true reality. Somehow she knew that later on, she would have to, but for now, for now she could live in denial, and forget her fears, her worries, and her regrets. With a soft smile she leaned forward, her hair hiding her face as she stroked his hair easily, whispering in his ear.

"I'm here to take you home."

**The End**

* * *

**Not the usual Character Death, no big tears, no overwhelming angst; that will be saved for another story. I was hoping for an ending more along the lines of closure, and not satisfaction, just trying to expand my options as I see them. Might do a sequel to this to tie up any questions, but I'm not sure as of yet.**

**Don't forget to review!**


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